


Mae Flowers

by boogiewrites



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Blood, Blood and Gore, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gore, Love Potion/Spell, Magic, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Sex Magic, Soul Bond, Soul Sex, Soulmates, Spell Failure, Spells & Enchantments, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-08-09 10:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16448081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boogiewrites/pseuds/boogiewrites
Summary: An Alfie Solomons Modern Magic AU. (Based in New Orleans and mixed with some AHS Coven characters at certain points.)Alfie Solomons became the vessel for a dark ancient energy. In this universe, each of these energies has a mate and being the owner of a dark energy, Alfie has spent nearly a century waiting to find his light energy match. After an awakening of her own, Mae LeBlanc, a natural born witch, as well as a sensitive and kind woman from New Orleans soul finally starts to bloom and calls out to Alfie's, unbeknownst to her. Not believing in supernatural powers, she finds herself thrown into a new existence that is full of things she never thought possible, including magical powers of her own. Faced with a new world full of possibility and potential danger (that also includes the incredible daunting idea of having a soul mate) Alfie takes her under his wing to teach her about her powers. As she grows and learns, so does he. They navigate her lessons together and come to terms with how lonely their lives have been without the other and face these very human emotions together. With a newfound friendship formed out of necessity, will the idea of a soul mate translate from a mere magical meaning to a romantic one?





	1. Chapter 1 Pt. 1

The year is 2018, a long, long way away from his birth year of 1893. He stands in front of the Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies in New Orleans, Louisiana. A place that had been around longer than he had. This place and the supreme, Fiona Goode had served as a haven and an ally for him for many years. It seemed no matter the type of witchcraft, save for the spat between the witches and the voodoo practitioners, this place could serve as a resting place, a pause in whatever journey anyone with powers might find themselves on.

He'd been drawn to New Orleans, his inner voice, his darkness kept pointing it out to him, whispering it to him. It'd all started about a year ago, only growing in intensity since. Once the odd dreams had started, and for the life he had lived, odd was saying something. Once they had started, his usual blackness, an endless, timeless void that lay before him in his unconsciousness, there started to appear small specks of light.

Nightmares were eased with more pleasant thoughts and memories that were not his own. Once he felt his darkness recoil from the light in his dreams he knew something had changed, something was different. He'd heard of awakenings like these from others of his kind but it'd been so long that he'd been alone in his own dark soul that he had thought that he would be alone there forever.

Fiona stands with her hand on her hip in the doorway after opening it with an unenthused swat of her hand. "Alfie Solomons." she grins, looking him over. "Look what the alligator dragged in." she scoffs as he walks past her into the house with his suitcase. "And what do we owe the pleasure of such a powerful being coming to visit us?" her tone as always sounds sarcastic, but she meant it. She liked Alfie just fine, he'd never done anything to wrong her or her kind. He mostly stopped in and hid out, only a handful of times over the years she'd been Supreme and even before that, former Supremes had never had a bad word to say about him. Mostly stay out of his way, his kind is best left to solitude when they are aloof as he was.

"'Ello." he gruffs out, brow as heavy as ever. "I'm gonna stay here for a bit, yeah?" he says, looking around the stark white interior of the old plantation style home. "I believe I got some business to handle down here. Need to figure it out and I suppose here's best. Hotels don't like it when you muck up the room 'n all." he shrugs.

"Doing some work are we?" she asks, shutting the door behind her.

"Yeah. Somefin' like 'at." he frowns.

"Same room as always is open." she says, saunter in front of him and back towards the drawing room.  
\------  
"'Ello, luv." he says to Cordelia as he sits down at the long table for dinner.

"Hello Mr. Solomons." she says with her kind smile and a polite nod of her head.

"Alfie, Alfie, please." he insists.

"What kind of name is Alfie for an immortal powerhouse like you?" Madison snarks, arms crossed, still mad at him tossing her against a wall for coming onto him earlier in the day.

"The kind of name me mum gave me so ya best shut ya fuckin' trap." he points a stern finger at her.

The clinking of silverware fills the room, the girls not chatting like usual, he knows he's the cause but he certainly doesn't mind the quiet.

"What brings you to us?" Cordelia asks.

"Something about a dream." Nan says, narrowing her eyes.

Alfie smiles at her. "You've got a rather spectacular noggin there little one." he praises. "Picking up on thoughts like mine."

"Well, I'm the next Supreme so..." she says sassily.

"Ah! My apologies." he grins and looks back to Cordelia. "I am here because of dreams, yeah." he nods. "Gotta do some work, figure out what they mean." he says thoughtfully.

"If there's anything we can help you with, let us know." her trademark soft and gentle approach as always.

"Ah, I'll be alright luv, I can handle meself." he gives her a wink to comfort her worry he can sense. He'd be worried about a dark soul like him in the house if he was her too. But he and his darkness were old friends at this point, having beaten each other up for almost a century now. For the most part they cohabited the space of his soul and mind in an unconventional harmony.  
\-----------  
The first night he slept in New Orleans his dreams became more vivid. To know it is not a fluke, he waits until the next night before trying any spellwork. Surely enough, his dreams are brighter, lighter, full of sounds of nature. But the sounds of nature humans like to hear, sounds of life. He could hear birds, smell the heat of the summer sun off of skin, coconuts, and flowers. These were not nature sounds he was used to. His were more glugs of swamp water, thick algae scratching apart and separating as his body disturbed it when he submerged. The smell of mold and decay of animals. These spaces of the earth and their inhabitants of cold-blooded reptiles were what he had dominion over. He oversaw the darker recesses, the dead and dying. But these dreams were not that, and he knew he was getting close to something.

That next night he locks himself away, preparing for a dream walk. He covers his body outside and in with powders and pastes of pulverized animals and minerals to connect himself with both living and dead. He sits with eyes closed in front of the fire. The fire wasn't necessary to the work but on the nights he'd spent alone in the wilderness in seclusion after taking in the darkness he'd gotten used to doing his work in front of flames. He lets his darkness free, let's it wander the city, the tops of buildings and into sewer systems, searching for what was calling to it.

He feels a jolt. A prickle up his spine as a warm yellow light takes up his field of vision. The images come in flashes, the smells waft by him like their on a breeze. He sees sunlight through rustling trees, flowers at eye level, big beautiful and absolutely teeming with life. Their almost psychedelic color palette, the sturdiness of the stems, the softness of the grass and dark dirt around them. He feels a sense of pride, a sense of calm, a sense of belonging. The visions turn to something else, a woman. He hears a feminine laugh, hears the purr of a cat, dark bouncing curls and tan skin warm from the sun. A soft exhale, then a sharp gasp. The happiness fades, giving way to darkness, but not his darkness. This was an emotion, a feeling.

He sees a female silhouette in front of a fireplace alone, an arm reaching out to find nothing but cold sheets and an empty bed. He felt loneliness, anxiety, a longing that led to sadness and confusion. He see can see a bed of deep jewel tones in a sea of blankets, the curve of a hip, traveling over the broad swell of it, noting bright yellow fingernails on a small hand, he becomes too desperate in his search, too intense to find what was calling out to him, so intense it wakes her and with a jolt it's all gone.

He emerges with a groan. -It is her.- His darkness whispers.

"Who?" he whispers into the fire.

-The one we've been waiting for.-

He didn't know if he believed it.

-Believe it. I can feel her light calling to me. It is she. It is the other half.- it's voice growing in intensity with its need. -She is ripening.- it hums in pleasure. -We have been waiting for millennia for her.- it whines. -She is ours. We are hers. We are us now.- it moans. -Join us. Complete us. JOIN US! COMPLETE US!- it starts to scream.

He shakes his head hard, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, yeah, mate that's what I'm tryin' to fuckin' do." he growls. "We'll try again tomorrow night, yeah?" he mumbles to himself.

They do it again the next night, after having a stern talk with himself about not getting too excited because it would scare her off and he'd find out nothing. His darkness was too excitable about finding it's mate. He personally was thrilled it seemed to be a lovely woman who harbored the light soul to compliment his dark one. He knew this wasn't going to be an easy task to take on, but inside he and his darkness both felt a strange tingle of happiness that wasn't something that existed before.

They were not soulmates in the way romance novels would portray them. These were ancient energies, beings that had no form, but were forced to dwell in human souls to enter the world. Every end a beginning and every beginning and end. A reaction and an action, a cause and an effect. There was a light to his dark, an equal to his energy. Some energies came organically, as he was guessing this woman's did. They were born with them. Others, like him, they were given to them. But when they joined, their powers were unstoppable. A perfect merge of life and death, as a ying-yang symbol with one-half black and one-half white, intertwined and in harmony. Without the match, the powers were less stable, not as powerful as they could be. And his darkness was starving for the stability and wholeness that they had been following all the way down to Louisiana.

This night his darkness hears her call easily, she might be curious about him as well. He finds himself in a garden, green and lush and overflowing with life. The air is thick and muggy, the sun is hot and feeding everything in sight. He sees a woman on her knees in a flower bed. He approaches her slowly. She's a beautiful little thing, he thinks. A headful of thick dark bouncy curls that spring as she digs and plants. Her light brown skin shining with sweat, two large thighs from little red shorts, a fitted tank top of orange wraps around her torso, drops of sweat falling onto it, gliding down her collar bones and cleavage. She's humming, drawing flowers out of the ground happily with an invisible force with her fingers. Big light hazel eyes with freckles scattered across her cheeks, her lips flushed and pouting as she sang to herself. She freezes and so does he. She doesn't raise her head at first, but her eyes dart around the garden. She slowly raises it, her big doe eyes meeting his own uncertain and blue ones.

"Is that you, luv?" he whispers out in a breathy, needy voice.

Her eyes widen in fear, a deep gasp before they both wake up and lose the connection.

-She is weak. She does not know what she is.- his darkness says.

"We scared her." he says with a sigh.

-She is weak, afraid.-

"We don't want her to be bloody afraid of us." he says angrily.

-She is afraid. Anxious you call it.-

"Fear of the unknown will do that. Strange men appearin' in your dreams 'n all." he shrugs and rubs his face as he letd out a heavy sigh.  
\------  
The next day he finds Cordelia in her office. He explains he's looking for a local girl and since she might have powers, he wondered if they had records on her. She gives him access to the hard copy files. He tells her she seems to like flowers if that helps. She pulls files specializing in growth and life powers and leaves him to it. He was far too distracted to have company it seemed. He sorts through them with a heavy brow, each a disappointment until he reaches on. He feels his fingertips tingling. He opens it and inside is a polaroid of her, although it must've been more than a few years ago.

-Ours.- his darkness whispers.

"Mae." he says with a sigh. "Perfect name for her, yeah?" a half smile appears on his face.

-OURS!-

"Yeah, yeah." he shakes his head hard. "Most recent record..." he says, finger scanning the bottom of the page. "Address unchanged. Owner of Green Goddess Flower." he lets out a thoughtful hum. "That explains all the flowers." he smiles, a finger tracing over her picture.

-Go to her.- he hisses angrily.

"Yeah." he nods, closing the file and moving fast to gather his things.

Cordelia is speaking with Fiona in the corridor as Alfie comes hastily through, suitcase in hand, walking past them briskly.

"Where are you off to?" Cordelia asks.

"I'm going to find my girl." he says without looking back.

She nods with an open mouth, not sure what he meant by his specific choice of words.

"Well, that's over." Fiona snarks, taking a drink.

"What is it that he's going to do exactly?" her daughter asks with a tilted head as her mother starts to walk away.

"He's going to go find his mate, I believe. Something his kind does." she says with an uninterested shake of her head.  
\----  
He throws the suitcase into the trunk of his black Cadillac Coupe Deville. He enters in the address of her shop into his phone, setting up the directions.

-Yesssssss.- his mind hisses while it vibrates with anticipation.

"I'm gonna need ya to take a backseat for a bit yeah, gotta handle this delicately."

He hears it makes a disgruntled noise. "No."

"You can come forth and scare her, we're going to frighten her, doesn't matter if your missing piece is in her, we have to get the human to accept us first. You understand?"

Another disgruntled noise.

"Right." he nods.  
\-------  
He pulls onto the street of her shop. He can feel something shifting inside him, something different from the usual nuisance of his darkness. He wonders if she can feel it too. Shutting the door behind him, he clears his throat, taking wide steps, seeing a cute little shop with big glass windows coming into focus. There's a large mural of a green woman surrounded by plants with leaves for hair.

"Green Goddess Flowers" he hums to himself, looking up at the sign first, lovely polished cursive print. In the windows is a big beautiful display of her work. She really was full of life and talent, everything was not only aesthetically pleasing but lush and bright. He looks behind the foliage, seeing no one in the shop. He hopes he hasn't missed her, but as the sign on the door still reads, 'OPEN', he stands with his hand on the handle, feeling as if he should try to remember this moment, it seemed like it would be important. His darkness begins to hum and vibrate again. He pulls over the door. A little bell rings, almost making him jump with the anxiety he felt. Or was he feeling her anxiety? Or both? He didn't know her well enough to know the difference. He stands, feeling raw and unsure, things he hadn't felt in decades.

"Hello!" he hears called out from the back, he feels his heart palpitate, not that it's beating pattern really mattered any longer in regard to keeping him alive. She has the sweetest voice, like a bird singing in a summer breeze, it hits his ears and sends a warm shudder down his spine, his darkness is practically purring inside him. She walks around the corner, a pleasant face replaced with a shocked one instantly. Her eyes are wide, her jaw tight.

"Mae? Mae LeBlanc?" his voice is gruff and deep. She swallows noisily. "That you, luv?" he asks.

She lets out a nervous laugh, mouth open as if she was going to speak, but instead, her eyes roll back in her head and she passes out.

"Oh, fuckin' hell." he groans, moving fast to pick his soul's mate up off of the floor.


	2. Chapter 1 Pt. 2

Mae LeBlanc's small but sturdy frame stands in the middle of a silent house. Just hours ago she had been in a tiny broken down apartment where she'd gotten ready for the funeral of the last two foster parents that she'd ever had. She was surprised when she was told to attend a meeting with their lawyers, but now surprise didn't begin to cover the emotions she was feeling. Her fingers trace over dusty surfaces, tchotchkes and knick-knacks from the lovely elderly couple that had taken care of her through the latter part of her teen years after she'd been passed from home to home since grade school.

One two many things would go wrong, turn up missing, accidents that were unexplainable happened around her and with many of the caretakers being religious or superstitious, eventually seeing the link between her arriving and things going wrong, she'd get sent back into the system again. None of these things were ever her fault directly, she never meant to hurt anything or anyone, that was the last thing she wanted to do. She was actually very sensitive and highly empathetic and whenever anyone was so much as in a bad mood around her she would feel it. This led to a lot of loneliness, a lot of abandonment issues and depression throughout her life. She tried to remain cautiously optimistic. A little voice in her head had always suggested that perhaps if she just fought a little harder, a little longer, that maybe one day things would turn around for her. And all that was finally paying off. 

She stands in the overgrown and unkempt garden that used to belong to Bessie, her foster mother. She sees the old tool shed of Charles, Bessie's husband, now falling apart from not being used since he'd fallen ill. She takes a deep shaky inhale, holding the deed to the house in a stack of papers in her arms. They had left her the house and everything in it. She was overwhelmed, touched and deeply appreciative of the gesture. She could leave that sleazy apartment complex now, she wouldn't have to worry about paying rent anymore. The weight of her responsibilities begin to lift off her and she finds herself sobbing a combination of happy and sad tears into the dead patch of rose's that Bessie always loved. She cries until the sun starts to set, sniffling and realizing she had a lot of work to do now. But all of it was good work, hard work sure but she'd never shied from hard work. Her life had had too many obstacles to overcome for her to not work hard. 

The next day she yawns, a cup of tea in her hand as she strolls around the garden, she sees the patch of roses with new life in them. Vines plumping and buds sprouting where she'd cried. She finds it most curious, but it's far from the strangest coincidence that had ever happened to her. She touches the buds gently, and lets out a heavy sigh. Perhaps it was a sign, she thought. She was being given an opportunity here, that was clear. She'd always loved plants and gardening, not having the place to do it since moving out of this house. Her tiny apartment was full of succulents and herbs on windowsills she used for cooking. She'd always been gifted at keeping plants alive, she felt like she understood them. So she sips her tea and considers opening the flower shop she'd always wanted. A dream of her's that now seemed to be a reality. And if those witches that had approached her were right, she should be able to grow such things to sell, shouldn't she?

When she'd been kicked out of one home after a very isolated freak storm hit the house after an altercation with her foster sibling, she was sent back into the system. This was when the women from Miss Robichaux’s Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies came to her. They told her she had powers and she told them they were full of crap. She'd brushed them off and told them not to contact her again, that she wasn't interested in joining a cult. But as she sat and thought about what they said, if she did indeed have powers, a lot of things in her life would've suddenly made a lot more sense. She never explored it further, not letting herself indulge in a fairy tale fantasy such as that. She wasn't special, why would she be? She was just a cry baby who's best friends historically were all animals. Just another number in the system, biding time until she aged out and became a statistic. She saw no reason she would be so lucky as to be so special. 

The day after the roses bloomed from her tears, a cat shows up. She feeds him some tuna she found in the pantry and he laces between her legs and meows loudly as if to declare he was home now. He was a beautiful thing, long white hair and fluffy with green eyes. He was very large, she thought he must belong to someone but after scouring social media and the papers and looking at every 'LOST CAT' poster she saw for months, nothing came up so she decided to keep him. She named him Percival, Percy for short as he seemed like such a regal little gentleman. He was no trouble at all really, very intuitive and he listened when she spoke. She had a little companion to keep her company in the sizeable house and she was grateful to have him around.

Over the next year, she works as hard as she ever has. Selling what was valuable in the house to give her a nest egg. She sets the garden straight and takes business classes at community college while working in lawn and garden at Lowe's. She takes in any information she can and starts to cultivate her collection of plants. She keeps them in the sunroom and more in a greenhouse that had replaced Charles's old tool shed in the high fenced garden. She'd never felt more fulfilled but there's this sense of longing that keeps coming to mind after she lets her mind calm in the evenings. When she would light candles and incense and soak with oils and herbs in her large tub it was like she could feel a breeze as she heard something like faint whispering in her ears that gave her a strange feeling. It wasn't exactly loneliness or grief, but like something was missing she couldn't put her finger on. 

Within six months she has the keys to her building she now owned. Within two months, her flower shop is up and running and within 4 months she's grown a clientele through hard work and word of mouth. She was known for having rare flowers and doing lovely arrangements and custom pieces. In the neighborhood she became the go-to for all occasions; funerals, wedding's, parties and holidays, she covered it all. She was very busy but she was the happiest she'd ever been in her life, a goal achieved and being lived filled her with love and light and she poured it all back into her work.   
She set her own hours, waking up and cooking, having tea and talking to her plants, sometimes singing to them when she'd listen to music. She would say goodbye to Percy and roller skate to work. It was a workout and gave her a chance to listen to music and get in the zone for work for the day.

Her days were lively and full of people and no moments of idle hands. But when she would come home to a house devoid of any other human life, sometimes her loneliness would creep in heavily. Cooking for herself, watching tv by herself, the leftovers piling up in the fridge over the week. The surplus of canned vegetables and jams from the garden adding up with no one but her lovely friends and neighbors Ruth and Nancy to give them to. She knew she was lonely, but she wasn't very good at reaching out and connecting with people. She never had been. She'd always been told she was a bit...off. A little weird, cute sure, but not beautiful enough to warrant her awkwardness being overlooked. Her sensitivity often led to react strongly to things and men never took a liking to that and when she would go out with someone it didn't ever really lead to anything. After a while she'd given up. She had her own life that was what she'd worked hard to achieve but there was still that strange pang inside her, not even sure if it was loneliness for another person at this point, she assumed it was just depression making her feel less than.

But then the dreams started. It was small at first, she'd dream about the swamp, hanging willows draped in Spanish moss. Algae thicker than her thighs over dead bodies of water that were teeming with life under the surface. It was dark and dank and still. Reptiles sunning on rocks and alligators floating with camouflage with their dinosaur eyes slowly blinking. She watches with curiosity until it quickly grows dark. The moon hangs high and she can barely see. What was once charming and quiet is now loud with the buzzing of insects, the hiss of unseens snakes, she feels the thick, black water around her skin, unknown things slithering and bumping into her, filling her with fear. She's tugged down slightly, too afraid to move, with the warmth of the sun gone she starts to smell the rot and decay of the lush greenery. The dead bodies thrown into the swamp now calling out for revenge, the beasts that outlived the other dinosaurs now pulling her down into the black water and then she'd scream and wake up, gasping for air. 

The dreams begin to change. Instead of walking into the swamp she turns and walks away in a forest. She hears odd grunts and groans, following the sounds through the moss covered tree's in the dim light of the woods. She sees a fire growing in the distance as the moon rises again, and the bent form of a man silhouetted against it. He's speaking a language she does not understand or even recognize. She wasn't even sure how he was making some of the sounds. He's covered in layers of mud and paint, his skin resembling tree bark with its cracked and jagged surface. His face turns to her, obscured by the colors and the flames, his eyes glow white and she freezes. She somehow knows the words are meant for her, his bright eyes grow more intense, blackness oozes from his mouth as he begins to growl and sputter his words as he starts to crawl towards her. She feels something moving across her skin, she sees snakes wrapping around her limbs. Huge black iridescent beasts, that consumed her inch by inch until everything was blackness and she woke up. 

The next night before going to sleep she brings Percy in and snuggles him, lighting some calming lavender incense she tries to be relaxed and welcomes happy dreams. These other dreams left her feeling oddly drained. She finds herself in her garden, the sun is shining, she's in her favorite combination of little dolphin shorts and a tank top happily working away. She hears a man's laugh from inside the house. She stops and listens, placing the tools in her hands on the ground. The sound gives her a warm feeling, unlike what she'd experienced in her other dreams. A loud, booming and charming laugh that had perhaps a slight lilt of an English accent to it. She tilts her head with curiosity. The smell of baked goods hits her nose and she sighs happily. Fresh from scratch bread being made in her kitchen she thinks, the faint hint of patchouli coming through and growing stronger. It feels so warm and inviting compared to her other dreams, she feels happy and content and it feels amazing. She hears footsteps on her patio stones, the squish of grass under feet and she freezes, seeing men's boots appear, walking towards her. She see's worn and faded blue jeans resting atop sturdy brown boots and they stop when she notices them. Her eyes move up his body slowly, a plain white t-shirt, bracelets on his wrists and various different metal necklaces hanging around his neck. He was built well, didn't look to be any older than his thirties, the way his crows feet grew when he crinkled his blue eyes with uncertainty as they met hers were the only thing to give away he wasn't any younger. A thick ginger beard covered his face, darker but matching hair in a medium length, partially slicked back but messy style. His eyes go wide as do hers. 

"That you love?" he asks, leaning towards her slightly and she feels a very strange sensation in her stomach, like a giant caterpillar was suddenly bursting out a cocoon and was now flapping wildly inside her. She gasps, taken back by the intensity of the feeling, which was odd for how intensely she was used to feeling things. She sits up in bed fully, not gasping or sweating, but that same strange feeling continues in her stomach. She looks at Percy who has his head tilted and his eyes narrowed at her. 

"These weird dreams are getting weirder." she mumbles, taking a deep breath and reaching out to scratch Percy's chin. He had an inkling what may be happening, but he lacked the ability to tell her. 

She goes through her same routine, adding a shower to the mix that morning to clear her head and the weird feeling in her chest. She comes in early, watering and talking to her plants, feeding them special food and adjusting the lights and Ph for all her babies. Being around them usual calmed her, made her feel more whole, but that day as she worked she felt oddly anxious like she was waiting for something to happen and she had no idea what. Being someone who suffered from anxiety this wasn't entirely new to her of course, but instead of a fast heart rate and sweating, she felt a strange hunger of some sort that not even a big lunch helped. 

She'd kept her sunny demeanor through the day, people being very complimentary of her work and how fast she did it. But a certain wannabe southern belle white girl that used her flowers often came trouncing into the shop at the end of the day. She was one of a trio of girls she'd only been referring to as 'the white girls' as they usually moved in a pack like a grouping of cackling hens and had mad a few micro-aggressive remarks about Mae's half Spanish ancestry. They had stuck up noses, money, and privilege to spare.

She was purchasing Chrysanthemum's, baby's breathe and pink rose arrangements for her daughters first birthday. She was throwing a garden party for her. Which Mae saw as pointless and odd for a one-year-old but business was business. As usual, the blonde dripping in Lilly Pulitzer and her designer bag was trying to talk her way to a discount, citing how much she'd bought from Mae and that perhaps she had earned a discount. Or why didn't she do some sort of frequent buyers rewards program like the chain florists did? She wanted to say, because I'm not a chain florist, obviously, those things take time and records and a computer system she didn't have time to figure out or money to buy. But she knew the woman wasn't interested in any real reasons for conversation.

She gives her a fake smile and a fake laugh and says the same thing as always, "If I did it for you I'd have to do it for everyone else." 

The woman was entirely disinterested already, seeing she wasn't getting her way and turning on the attitude and silent treatment, literally pouting and whining, huffing and stomping her feet in her cork wedges as she went out the door. 

Mae sighs and shrugs, seeing it's almost time to close. She goes into the back to do one last round with the plants. She's humming and doling out treatments and praise, making notes of stock when she hears the bell on the door ring. "Hello!" she calls out before moving towards the front. She sits the canteen down and makes her way to the front counter. She sees the man from her dreams. This time he was real, at least she thinks he's real. She's certain when he steps forward with that same look on his face and speaks.

"Mae? Mae LeBlanc?" he asks in a charming English accent.

She's hit with the dream all over again. It was precisely him down to the necklaces. She's hit with every emotion, both good and bad all at once it seems. That twisting her gut comes back hard and her stomach shudders. She doesn't feel as afraid as she had but feels...something. She realizes she feels overwhelmed and tries to take a deep breath. 

"That you love?" he asks, just as he did in the dream and her head starts to spin. 

She lets out a nervous laugh, mouth opening to try to speak, but instead, her eyes roll back in her head and everything goes dark as she quickly becomes too overwhelmed with the unknown to continue functioning.

"Oh, fucking hell." he groans, moving fast to pick his soul's mate up and sit her in a large soft chair in the back of the shop. He turns the sign on the door to closed and proceeds to lock up and shut down the building. He grabs her purse and carries her to his car, gently placing her in the back seat that had the child locks in case she woke up while he was driving. He decided he'd take her home, and they'd figure things out from there.


	3. Chapter 3

Alfie drives over to the Westbank into the residential parts of town. Old and new houses, apartment complexes and shotgun homes. He follows the GPS to Mae's house and it somehow looks how he thought it might. A small colorful front, with a tall wooden fence around the sides and backyard. The door was a deep teal set against a faded yellow exterior. An awning over the front door, with a small porch, a stoop that was painted and worn. Flower pots of all sizes and in the color of gemstones and varied conditions sat on the stairs and around it. Wildflower boxes sat underneath windows with shutters of the same teal color as the door and fencing. It was quaint, comfortable and colorful just like she was, he thought it suited her well. He pulls into the small driveway, in the residential area with houses that look much the same as hers. It homed older houses with older owners that had fallen into a less than pristine condition, newer family homes with landscaped front lawns. But Mae's had a small patch of grass, closer to the road as he suspected the backyard would be where most of the bulk of the grass would be for a garden. 

He carries Mae into her house, unlocking her door with a nod of his head. Finding the interior to be as warm and comfortable as she felt in his arms. He walks directly into the far corner of the living room. The large bay window seen from the front of the house is bleeding bright light into the room from behind a large and plush couch. The room is decorated in deep jewel tones, a teal sectional sits against navy walls, with a collection of warmer color throw pillows in bohemian and southwestern styles. A shaggy faux fur blanket was thrown haphazardly over the extended lounge end of the couch. Large potted palms sit in the corners, succulents in tiny decorative pots on the window sills. They carried onto the mantle of the brick painted black fireplace that sat like a huge room divider, sitting in a huge square column in the center of the large space of the living room and kitchen. A flat-screen tv rests on the opposite wall of the couch above the fireplace. A driftwood coffee table containing a large fern in a bright yellow pot, books on plants and herbs stacked with various remotes and cat toys. 

He places her gently on the extended section of the couch, careful to place her head on a pillow and make sure none of her limbs are twisted. 

He hears and feels his darkness rev and purr and push around inside him. "Yeah I know, me too." he sighs.

-"Been waiting so long."- it moans. "So soft. So much life. She glows like the sun. The companion to our moon."- It starts reciting its own strange poetry for its mate it's waited millennia for. It hadn't been with its light since the dawn of time he assumes, as he knows his darkness is so old that time isn't even relevant to it for the most part. 

He recalls the dark horrors of primordial ooze and black endless voids and abyss when it had come upon him. He was impressed it was behaving itself. For so long he'd had to fight so hard to control it, making him do evil, terrible things. Deeds so bad he'd exiled himself for years away from civilization. But in her presence it was calmed, it rippled like water, it was happy and he'd never known his darkness to feel happy about anything. Except when he was digging through the insides of innocents. He shakes the old thoughts from his head, still feeling guilty even almost a century later and trying to make amends ever since. 

He traces his fingers over her face and whispers calming words to help ease her anxious nature he sensed. He stands and takes in the room. Her house is very quiet. He moves soundlessly around the fireplace and sees a quaint little kitchen. Driftwood light fixtures, colorfully painted window and door frames in the same jewel tones that carry throughout the house. The kitchen is white-walled, sunlight from a window over the sink pouring in against the far wall. But the majority of light came from the two patio doors that led to her garden. A closed-door sits off to the left next to an open archway that goes down into a sunroom. He looks over the open shelves on the kitchen walls and is very excited to find tins of various teas lining them. Old jars of pantry staples sit across the wooden countertops, some he'd say were from his time possibly, he wonders if she inherited them or if she simply had classic taste. He finds a small, dinky metal kettle and starts on making her some tea. He figured he needed something to calm her, finding her windowsill full of herbs he could easily use to make something to soothe her. 

He senses something alive in the house, something besides the plants. He turns, seeing a large white long haired cat staring at him from a short hallway between two doorways to his right. It swishes its tail and they both narrow their eyes at each other. 

"Who are you, lad?" Alfie asks as the cat continues to sit and stare at him. "You must be with Mae." he says with a nod, going back to searching through the cabinets. "Not much for talkin' to strangers, eh?" he chuckles. "Must mean there's a little more to ya than being a common house cat."

Percival lets out a noisy huff of air, taking offense to the term common house cat. He lets out a low growl at Alfie. He could sense his dark energy and he didn't trust him. Although why he had brought Mae home and was now making her tea was a bit confusing if he wished her ill. 

"I'm not here to hurt your girl." Alfie says, still not looking back to him. "I'm here to help her. You know she has powers, yeah? I'm here to teach her how to use them. I have similar powers, although I'm not a witch like her." he shakes his head, his fingers digging into a small tea tin. 

Percy knew he wasn't a witch, he didn't feel like a witch, didn't have the aura. He lets out a typical meow.

"You can say somefin' better 'an at mate." Alfie grins. 

He lets out another meow of the same tone. 

"Fine, fine. You're protective, I understand. She seems like a sweet, soft girl I can understand your concern." he remarks as he looks at him with a sympathetic expression. 

Percy moves to jump up on the kitchen island to get a better look at this new person that'd come into their lives. 

"'Ello." he says, leaning back against the counter while the kettle fills. 

Percy says nothing and continues to sit and stare as he had been. 

"I'm Alfie Solomons. You're probably sensing my darkness. But I've had it for a very, very long time, yeah? We're in control, we're not gonna hurt Mae." he states again. "We're here because of her lightness. She's our mate, right? We've been lookin' for her since me 'n this darkness got together. So the last fing I wanna do is cause her harm, 'right?" 

Percy tilts his head, content for now with his explanation. But he wasn't so sure what Mae, who had no knowledge of anything of their world was going to think about this. 

Mae's eyes blink open and then widen as she finds herself at her home, which is not where she remembered last being. She sits up slowly, her head feeling a bit swimmy but she's quickly aware of that strange feeling in her stomach acting up again. This time it felt different, it was what she imagined a jolt of electricity might feel like. A humming in her ears she hadn't heard before, a warm tingling in her limbs. She wonders if she has a concussion. Her attention is drawn towards the kitchen. She hears the clang of something metal and the sounds of someone clearing their throat. Her eyes are the size of saucers again. 

"Oh, shit." she whispers, eyes darting around the room, hearing movement and now humming and in a distinctly male tone coming from the kitchen. She moves slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible, feeling that vibration inside her intensifying and she reads it as anxiety. She sees her shoes have been taken off as they rest by the couch, which makes her brow furrowed in question. She peeks around the corner of the fireplace, see's the same man from her dreams in the kitchen, now recalling the man walking into her shop. Then she recalls fainting and rubs her head where she's guessing she hit the ground as if it might give her some answers. Why was he in her dreams? Was she having prophetic dreams now? Great, that's just what a weirdo like her needed, more weirdness stacked on top of everything else strange about her. Was she being kidnapped? Why was she at home is she was being kidnapped? Is this a hostage situation perhaps? Holding her for ransom in her own home. She recalls reading about Stockholm syndrome and makes a quick pact with herself not to fall into that sort of mess in her manic rush of thoughts. 

She eyes the large cast iron skillet on the counter in front of her, and if Saturday morning cartoons had taught her anything, is that when you needed to knock someone out, that's the way to go. So she grasps the grainy handle in both hands, holding it to her chest because of its heavy weight as she tries to sneak up on him. Little does she know he knew she was awake the moment her eyes popped open. But as is in his nature, he wants to learn about how she reacts to the unknown, taking this as a learning experience about her. He can sense she's scared and he understands that much. But her reaction with violence surprises him. Perhaps it was his darkness being near that made her so bold and go for that method first. Maybe it was trying to mingle with her to even her out, make her less passive and more reactive. 

So as he hears her deep inhale as she's about the bring the pan across the back of his head, he turns and stops it, putting his hand over hers as she's about to swing on him. 

"Fuckin' 'ell girl." he frowns down at her short frame. 

Her bottom lip juts up, her brow going low in surprise for his hearing her and being so calm about her attempt at murdering him. 

"I ain't here to hurt ya." he says with that thick accent she heard in her dreams. "If I was would I be makin' bloody tea and layin' ya down all nice and comfy while you'd passed out?" he asks, his gingery beard jutting towards her as he spoke to drive his point forward. 

Her large hazel eyes blink rapidly, taking in the new information, still wild and large and full of questions he could sense. Her mouth opens and her lips twitch but no words come out. He had a point. 

"Now let's put this down, eh?" he says, taking the large black pan and setting it on the counter behind her. "I know you got a lot of questions, yeah?" he nods, his lips pouted out as he moves closer to her. "I know you've been dreamin' 'bout me 'cause I've been dreamin' 'bout you." his voice dips lower, but not in a threatening way. "Do you think there might be a reason for that?" he tilts his head and their eyes connect fully for a few seconds, that flame inside her makes her take a sharp inhale. What was this feeling? He reached out with tentative hands, putting them on her shoulders to ground her, depart a bit of calm energy into her. She feels it immediately, not understanding the source. Her muscles loosen, her heart rate slows and it's like the best anxiety medication she's ever taken. "Let's just breathe... calm down..." he says nodding slowly and she mirrors the gesture without thinking much about it, their eyes still fixated together. 

She gives a quick but still unsure nod. 

"We don't want ya gettin' all excited and burnin' down the place now do we?" he says with a smile that tugs back the corner of his mouth. Her eyes go wide again and he feels that spark of fear come back. She recalls being angry a few weeks ago. The flames in the fireplace lapping out wildly for a moment, catching one of the plants on the rug on fire, the singed piece of rug still black despite her scrubbing it. "Yeah, I know all about that sweetie, come now." he says, putting a hand on her back, moving her towards the round kitchen table that sat in the space between the bar top and the sunroom. "Try some proper tea made by a real Englishmen and have a sit down with me, hmmm?" he suggests with a kind smile and a nod of his shaggy head.

She still doesn't speak but another series of quick nods as she places her hands flat on the table top and stares with those big enticing eyes as he moves about her kitchen. He pours the tea from the kettle in such a delicate way it takes her by surprise. He'd chosen her favorite mug somehow, an old one of Bessie's, textured like tree bark and cream, a funky green and orange mushroom on the side that she liked to run her fingers over as she drank. He sits next to her, pulling the chair closer to her, taking a sip and motioning with the steaming mug for her to do the same. She was taught not to take drinks from strangers but what is proper etiquette for a stranger, but not really a stranger, who brings you home after passing out then tells you secrets you've not told anyone else? Where was the after-school special on that when she was a kid?

"It ain't poison." he says with a chuckle into his mug. "See? I'm drinkin' it too. No worries, love." he says in a soothing even tone. 

Once again she responds in a nod, taking the mug into her hands and taking a sip. It was nice, she had to give him that. 

"Best start with the basics, yeah?" he says with a quirked brow, taking a deep breath and setting the mug back own. "My name is Alfie Solomons," he says with an authoritative tone. "I've been tryin' to find ya for weeks but I think you know that." his eyes narrow almost playfully at her. "I know Cordelia and Fiona-"

"I'm not going to that stupid academy." Are the first words out of her mouth to him and he smirks at her stubbornness. She was going to need that. 

"Now sit on back, darlin' I ain't here to try to get ya to go." he dismisses the thought with a sweep of his hand. "I just know 'em and they know you eh? I'm tryin' to create some familiarity here understand?" She nods and keeps her face harder than it had been. "I'm not a Salem witch, I'm not a voodoo priest or nuffin' of the sort like Maria who does your hair." 

"What are ya then?" she blurts out, her brow lower and her eyes more curious than frightened now. 

"Someone that has been lookin' for you for a very long time, love." he says with a softer expression, his hand resting out of the table. "There are some things I'm gonna tell you about yourself, yeah? And I need you to believe I ain't here to lie to you because you're not gonna believe it. I know enough about you just by how you've reacted to me bein' here to know you aren't naive." 

Her lips purse at the compliment, her eyes finally leaving him and watching Percy jump up onto the table and join them. He seemed calmed as their eyes met, a slow lazy blink as he laid down. She took this a sign to proceed. "I'll listen." she says softly. 

"You are a very powerful woman Mae." he begins, a finger tapping the space on the table between them. 

Her face scrunches and he can tell she's already not believing him.

"I'm not on about no modern feminist rant here, love, just hear me out, please," he adds. "You're very powerful and you need to be guided by someone who knows what it's like. You and I are very similar, contrary to what our appearances might indicate. I'm here to help you understand that power." he pauses, watching her face and she's still listening, even if shes' taking everything with a grain of salt. "You are a natural born witch. But beyond that, you were born with a very special soul. A very rare and powerful thing, yeah? I happen to have the same sort of soul. You might understand it best as a...yin and yang situation. Your soul balances out mine you see. Your powers are complementary to mine."

His face is very serious, she can tell at least he doesn't think he's lying. But crazy people believed their own lies so of course, he would.

"I ain't crazy, sweetheart." he gruffs out, furrowing his brow and taking a sip of tea.

Her eyes shoot over to him and she stiffens. Can you read my mind? She thinks with a tilted head. 

"Yes." he nods. "But only to prove a point." he shakes his head and looks up at her from under a heavy brow. She gulps noisily. "You can do it too. But you've not had any discipline, no one to explain the strange things that happen to...and that's why I'm here." he says with a sweet soft voice as his hand touches her knee for just a moment, trying to show her he meant her no harm. He wishes she could read his mind so she would understand how entirely the opposite was his intention. 

"To help me with my..." her face frowns. "Powers?" she says with a solid nod of her head. 

"Precisely," he says with a large nod. "You see, every so often there is a soul created that takes a bit of ancient power with them into creation, into this world, this...plane of existence if you will." he begins speaking with his hands. "You are one of these souls. I think the term white witch might be easiest for you to relate it to. You've been denying these power and they keep manifesting in inconvenient ways, yeah?"

He sees the realization come over her face as she hides her uncertainty with a long sip of tea. 

"Things explodin' when you're angry, your wonderful gift with plants. How you speak to them and they flourish. How every full moon you find yourself almost uncontrollably amourous." he says with a cheeky tone and looking away with a quirk of his brow.

She lowers the mug and frowns at him, giving him a warning glance. There's no way he could've known that. 

"I'm not tryin' to start trouble, love, I'm simply trying to ease your mind that I'm insane." he explains with another low swing of his voice, back to seriousness. "I'm here to mentor you. It's how this system works. Our souls need each other to balance the other out. And that normal, part of how the universe keeps it's balance, yeah?" he nods and looks to see her processing the information. 

Something fluttering inside her tells her to trust him, even though anything she'd ever been taught should be telling her otherwise. She studies him, thinking he looks perfectly human, but so did she, and if she, in fact, did have these powers then he wouldn't look any abnormal than she did. "I...I don't know why but... against my better judgment I'm inclined to believe ya." she says with a sigh that slumps her shoulders. As her nerves ease, her southern accent comes out a bit more, her throat not feeling so tight and it causes a little smirk to come across his face. "But I ain't really sold on it." she adds with a furrowed brow. 

"Right." he drags out the word, looking around the room for a moment, trying to think of how to prove it to her. "Ah." he says, grabbing a tiny succulent that sat in a homemade planter that resembled Percy, he waves his hand over and it withers and died immediately. 

"NO!" she cries out, taking it in her hands as her breathing picks up and she stares at the plant. "Poor little thing..." she whines, her face entirely distraught, her mouth hanging open. She glares at him while stroking the plant and without her noticing, it starts to plump back up again. As she looks back down she drops it against the table, but only by a few inches and it thuds as a tiny flower that hadn't existed before starts to bud on it as it goes back to how it had been. "Oh," she says with a straight face, only her eyes moving over to him. "I...I've never done that before." she states quietly, her face still in shock. 

"You need to start believin' in yourself before you believe in me, love, see? Ya powers work. They're charged with your emotions right now because they're not trained. I can help you with that. You might be hesitant to my being here, but clearly, your powers aren't, eh? We can feed off each other in that way." he explains, taking the plant and studying her handiwork before placing it back where it had been. 

He sees her eyes going cross before they squeeze shut and she lets out a little moan, reaching up to touch her head.

"Right," he says with a wrinkling of his face in concern. "That'll happen at first." he says in an unintentionally condescending way. It'd been so long since he'd thought about what it was like to only be learning of powers that he'd forgotten how draining it could be.

She moans and he holds her shoulders as she slumps forward. "So tired." she rasps out, her eyes looking a bit sunken, as they look up at him like a little, injured kitten.

"You're learnin' but you're weak, love." he nods, rubbing her shoulder. "We can make ya stronger, but now let's get some food in ya and get ya to bed, eh?" he says with a caring tone again, patting her head before pushing her back in the chair as she rests her weight on the table.

He rises and moves to the fridge, angling himself so she isn't out of his sight. His darkness is already impatient to get back to touching her, letting Alfie know of its greed to connect with her. But Alfie feels the sadness that's coming from her that it's choosing to ignore in its selfishness. 

As her head spins, the frown on her face is not only from the uncomfortable feeling she has. She'd never thought she could be special. Only Bessie and Charles had even told her she could be but she'd never believed it. So it turns out she actually was special and that felt like it should feel better than it did. If she was different, then that explained a lot but it also meant she could never fully blend in and disappear like she'd always tried to. So she had to form a new approach to how she lived, which felt incredibly daunting and made her head throb. Percy senses her pain and walks over and purrs, rubbing against her face. 

Alfie leans against the counter with his hips as he mindlessly put together a sandwich for her. He sees the deep blues around her, can feel the confusion and sadness and he wishes he could take it away but it's all part of the process. It physically hurts him to feel her pain, he hopes he can show her what a gift these powers can be. How it can make her life easier and all the perks that come along with it. She had so much love to give inside her and no suitable outlets for all that life to escape and flourish. She must be so unhappy with all that confusion and pain from a source of love and life only needing to be properly expelled, used and focused. He takes solace in knowing he can help her. They've found each other now and the wait was over. His darkness does it's equivalent of wiggling in excitement at the thought. She seemed so very sweet and kind, a real ray of sunshine in human form and he supposes she very well could be. He swears to himself no matter how this goes he'll do everything within his own enormous powers to help her figure herself out, learn how to flourish on her own. Only that would lead to a better life for them both.

Her favorite comfort sandwich, bologna and cheese with lots of mustard and pickles appears before her. He refills her tea and sits next to her wordlessly. 

"So..." she begins, forcing her eyes open and taking a bite. "Ya gonna be teachin' he, huh?" her face winces as she turns it towards his.

"That is the plan, yes." he nods. 

"You said you were lookin' for me. That means you're not from here, right?" 

"Right. I'm not from anywhere really, just got into town last week."

"Where are you stayin'"? she asks

"I've been at the Academy while I've been lookin' for you." 

"Ah." she nods, taking a bigger bite, her strength starting to come back. She weighs the next thought that pops into her head before she expresses it out loud. "I can..." she tilts her head back and forth in uncertainty, "I can trust you right?" she asks with a weaker voice than she intends to.

"Of course, love. I said I'd never hurt you and I mean that. Hurting you is hurting myself and that'd be rather daft of me seein' as I've waited so long for ya and my soul has waited even longer than either of us could fathom." he says with an expressive face. 

She nods and looks at the table as she chews another bite. "So you would like.. protect me basically? Teach me how to use this and keep me from hurting myself?"

"Yes, of course," he says earnestly again. "I know you can be a little clumsy." he chuckles and she smirks because he's right. "Not gonna let ya hurt yourself." he gives her a smile that feels genuine, the hesitation and instructional tone in his voice now gone and only that charm of his handsome face and accent remain as she feels an unfamiliar warmness spread through her body. She wondered if it was the light she was told about. Should I ask him to stay here? She asks herself, her eyes studying his. And as if she was hearing a voice that was carried downwind by a breeze, the faintest lightest 'yes' she hears. 

"I have a spare room," she says, her head motioning to the closed door by the sunroom. "If ya... wanted to stay." she says blinking and looking away from him. "I mean... would that help? Make things easier for..." she motions her hand back and forth between them. "Whatever this is." she lets out a huff of a laugh with raised brows, her face no longer looking sad and he's thankful. 

"It would make it immeasurably easier." he says with a grateful nod and another dashing smile that she's not used to receiving from men that look like him. 

"I don't want you to have to stay with those witches anyway." she shakes her head and looks away again, taking another bite. "And it's not like I live that close to them," she adds. "Would hate for you to have to do that every day." she shrugs. "Plus this way when I blow up a cauldron or whatever you'll be here to help." she smiles and takes another bite.

He knows she's making excuses now but he doesn't mind. Her capacity for kindness is showing already, inviting to share her home with him. He wasn't going to ask to stay with her but this was the ideal situation. "I can help with that, yeah." he nods and lets out a little chuckle, much like the one she'd heard in her dream, she feels that warm feeling again, like walking into the sunlight after being inside in the air conditioning. It felt good and something was telling her this was right and it certainly wasn't her common sense. 

She finishes her sandwich, still feeling extremely drained but no longer dizzy or in pain. She shows him to the room, switching the light on and revealing yet another cozy space. The walls were white, it was filled with plants. A shelf full of ivy rests the length of the wall over a soft looking bed with dark colored and mismatched pillowcases, blankets and sheets. A southwestern style rug in pinks, yellows and burnt orange rests across the floor at an angle, a blanket of the same color scheme but different pattern rest across the lower half of the bed. A worn wooden dresser rests under the window, plants in pots, an old metal fan, and an incense holder sit atop it. A nightstand with a lamp sits against the wall next to the bed. He sees a fireplace on the wall opposite the bed, giving a thankful nod as it would make his spellwork much easier to have it so close and with such privacy. Boxes with the names of her foster parents sit stacked in the corner. 

"I can move some of the plants if you need me to." she offers. "This room gets really good light during the day so I put a bunch in here." she moves towards the window. "I'm sure I've got some darker curtains if you need them. This doesn't shield you at all from the sun." she shakes her head as her fingers tug on the sheer fabric. "I'll get the boxes out of your way tomorrow." she says with a kind but tired smile as she turns back around to look at him surveying the room. 

"You can leave them, love, no problem at all. I get some curtains if it turns out I need them," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No rush on the boxes either." he adds with a smile that reads as thankful. "It's a very cozy room." he nods with pouted lips. 

"The bathroom is on the other side of house." she says walking out of the room and he follows. He sees the rectangular space. His eyes are first drawn to the old and large claw foot tub that had been painted yellow and hooked up to also function as a shower. The same navy paint on the walls as the living room, with white tile on the floor. A sink with a cabinet underneath, various toiletries rest on top of the small counter space. A large worn mirror hung above it with a golden frame that showed it's age. As was with the rest of the house, the plants had made their way in here as well. Leaves of eucalyptus hung from the silver hardware shower head, plants rest atop the makeshift wooden stands the fit snug around the tub, some of the leaves and branches falling down into it slightly. The shower curtain was shoved back and out of the tub, he took this to mean she took baths more often. A window with a bright paisley fabric cover keeps the view of the outside blocked. And old work of embroidery of a bouquet of flowers is framed and rests above the toilet. "I'll bring in a basket from my room for you to put your stuff in, there's not much room left under here." she says with her foot tapping the door to the cabinet under the sink. 

"Much appreciated, love." he says, eyes still scanning the busy space. There was so much to look at in her home. She turns to open the other door, different from the rest as it was painted lavender. 

"And this is my room." she says almost timidly. He feels the magic wafting out of the room as soon as she opens the door. The walls were a deep teal, a paisley purple rug covered the worn hardwood floor. A thick and plush mustard yellow comforter cover the bed, another faux fur, shaggy throw in strewn over the bed like the one on the couch. Her pillows are all mismatched, some with floral prints, some shades of purple. A fireplace rests in this room as well and he can feel the age in the house as he enters the room. The mantle is painted the same shiny black as the other fireplaces and pillar candles of all colors, widths, and sizes rest atop the mantle. Some in tiny silver platters, some melting down onto the wooden surface. 

The room smelled deeply of lavender and seeing an incense burner next to a flat screen tv on her purple dresser he knew the source. A closet door of the same lavender color rests in the corner. A large chair next to a bookshelf sat next to it in front of a window with flowing jewel-toned fabrics and sheer panels create a blanket around the chair. A wicker clothes hamper and a stained glass lamp on the nightstand all fall within the same color scheme, the room full of all sorts of energy. A small table pushed into the corner with a runner across it, a worn little pink stool pushed under it with a laptop on top. Framed pictures of all sorts, from all time periods and mediums, cover the far wall, some she'd inherited, some from her weekend trips to the flea market. Of course, the room was not complete without a large palm overgrowing in the corner next to a standing mirror. 

He felt his insides quiver. This was her nest, he thought. This was her safe space and her sanctuary and his darkness knew it too. The space wasn't as well lit as he imagined but it was night and he hoped he'd get to see it in the morning light, anxious to know what else it would reveal about her. She felt a bit exposed and vulnerable suddenly, there'd never been a man in this room before with her. But he took in everything with a look of awe on his face, she watched his thoughts pass over his face, eyes tensing, lips twitching.

She tried to read his thoughts, but of course, she had no real clue as to how to do it, but she still felt no maliciousness in him towards her. There was something under the surface, she could tell. Something about him was timeless in a way. He had said their souls were ancient, perhaps that's where the term old soul came from? Without the new explanation of there actually being souls at all, and now knowing they could, in fact, be old, she thought the descriptor on a more lamen's terms still made sense about him. He had an ease about him, the bohemian sort of casual and comfortable style to him. The messy hair, the beard, and jewelry. It would seem their aesthetics matched well, which she hoped was a good sign. for

"If you need anything, feel free to knock." she says turning to leave the room before looking back at him. "But knock first." she says with a stern nod of her head and he flashes another smile, happy to see her giving him boundaries. The lightness in her could make her too giving, too compassionate to the point of harm to herself and he was hopeful that this wasn't the case with her as she gave him a look that told him not to push it with her. "I guess we'll get ya a key tomorrow..." she says rubbing the back of her neck. "You have stuff with you or...?" her face contorts in question.

"I got stuff in me car, yeah." he nods looking towards the door. "I'll try to be quiet bringin' it in. You need to get some rest now though," he says with a wag of his finger at her. "Very important you take very good care of yourself while you're learnin', love. You can drain yourself and your health will suffer and we can't have that." he says with a clap of his hands. "So I will get my things, settle in, and we can convene in the mornin', eh?" 

"That sounds good. I get up between seven and eight usually." she says, moving back towards her room. "So uh...goodnight?" she asks with a soft laugh for the unique nature of the very unusual situation. 

"Goodnight Mae." he says with a nod and smile. "If you need anyfing, you come knock as well, yeah?"

"Yeah, no problem... uh...." he looks at the floor realizing she doesn't even remember his name. She lets out a laugh and rubs her head. "I'm sorry but I don't remember your name." she admits with a bitten lip and an apologetic glance.

"It's Alfie, love." he grins. "Alfie Solomons." he nods again. "You've 'ad a lot coming at you today Mae, I take no offense." he says with a hand to his chest. 

"Thanks for that." she nods. "Movin' in and I don't even know your name. What a weird ass day." she shakes her head but she's smiling as her eyes shift around, trying to process everything.

"Things'll start to feel more normal again once we establish a routine, you'll see. It'll be fuckin' weird at first, I won't lie." he laughs and she's hit that warm feeling again, recalling her dream and the same sound she'd heard then as he moves towards her. "But we'll get through it together, yeah?" he responds supportively with a hand on her shoulder. 

"I appreciate the honesty." she says sheepishly with a smile that reflects the tone. 

"Ain't got no reason to lie to ya, sweetheart. Now you get on in bed. I can tell you're fadin' on me." his eyes almost twinkle at her as he motions to her door. 

"Lock the door before you go to bed, please." 

"I will. But if anyfing came in here, believe me, it'd regret it as soon as it met me." he chuckles again.

"Also good to know." she nods."Night Alfie." she says with a wave from her doorway.

"Night, Mae. Don't worry 'bout a fing!" he says loudly as he walks towards the door. 

She lies in bed wondering what the fuck she was doing. There was a man in her house. Not just that but an attractive magical one that was apparently lethal and her... soul mate? She groans and rolls over to her stomach. Yeah, the term fit didn't it? She had too many questions but she knew she'd get answers as he'd already been very helpful so far. Well, helpful in the sense of turning her life upside down. But at least he was sticking around to help clean up the mess and make sense of it. She couldn't say she'd ever known any man to do that before for her. She decides to go to sleep on that hopeful note, wondering what she would dream about now that he had found her.


	4. Chapter 4

The usual noise and commotion that carried over from the city in the night weren't to be heard. It was as if a calm had blanketed over the neighborhood, no sirens nearby, and no spotlights from cop cars had woken her up as they had the tendency to do sometimes. She slept hard and well and if she had dreamed, she certainly didn't recall it. 

Her eyes flutter open, a hard yawn and a smack of her lips against the soft pillow clutched in her arms underneath her. She sees the sunlight coming through the curtain and grunts, greeting the day with a big stretch. She reaches out to the bedside table to read the time and for once doesn't groan when she finds it's just before her alarm is set to go off. She rolls to her back, looking at the ceiling after rubbing her eyes, wondering why she felt so rested when she hears a noise from he kitchen.

"Oh yeah." she says in a sleep laced voice, the tone of realization in it. There was a man living in her house now. She was a witch. She had powers. All the improbable things come back to her as her brain boots up. She slides the covers over her, the cool air of the springtime morning raising goosebumps across her skin, her bare thighs shivering as she places her feet on the plush purple paisley rug on the floor. She slides her feet into the rubber soled house shoes by her bed, purposely purchased so she could walk into the garden with them in the mornings. With another stretch, her back cracking and popping as she does so, feeling the age creeping in from her most recent birthday. She was thankful for the spring, in the heat and humidity her joints didn't seem to hate her as much. But this morning she wasn't met with any pain and she doesn't understand the cause for it but much stranger things were at foot right now and she wasn't going to question something going right.

She pulls up her morning playlist, syncing it up to the portable speakers in her room and kitchen as was her usual morning routine. She figures there wasn't a reason to depart from what was normal from her that much despite Alfie being in the house now. She moves to grab her knee-length robe from the hook on the back of her door, putting on clothes would be one difference though. She keeps her usual sleepwear of short sleep shorts and a tank top on underneath it, it was her house after all. The choice of the fateful shuffle button is lost on her sleepy mind as Rescue Me by Fontella Bass comes on in the mixture of sixties, funk, and soul she liked to keep her mornings light and upbeat. 

Alfie is in the kitchen, looking into the seafoam green, retro looking oven that matched the other large appliances in the room. He's checking on the chelsea buns he'd made, turning back to the scrambled eggs he was currently whipping at when music started out of nowhere, causing him to jump slightly, his eyes darting around the room quickly. Percy chuckles to himself at the immortal's reaction. Some force of nature he was. 

Mae shuffles her way out of her room and she's met with a very awake and cooking Alife that makes her stop and take a survey of the kitchen. She looks at him with squinted eyes, her round nose twitching, just as adorable as a rabbit he thinks, as it's hit with the smell of baked goods. 

"Mornin' love." he says with a smile that she deems too cheery for this early, but she finds it infectious. 

"Mornin'." she mumbles, her hand in her wild, massive curls as she scratches her head. She moves to the table and plops down, fingers smoothing down her hair that's grown twice in size in her sleep.

"Eggs and bacon?" he asks. 

"Yeah, thanks." she says watching him move smoothly as if he already knew where everything was in the kitchen. Was that a power, she wondered, knowing where things were in a strangers kitchen? "You didn't have to make breakfast ya know." she begins, resting her chin in her hand, feeling her stomach start to rumble. 

"I wanted us started out on the right foot today." he says with a stern nod, salting the eggs and turning to flip the bacon in the iron pan. "I don't want to be a bum so I'll be helpin' ya out however I can. You can figure out how much rent you'd like me to pay you."

She blinks, realizing she hadn't even thought about it. Some extra income would be nice for food and utilities. Another person did mean more use of the house. "Yeah I'll...figure that out today." she says with a shake of her head. 

"I'll help ya with the shoppin' too. If you don't mind of course. I like to cook, and therefore like to eat a lot as well. The work takes it out of ya. You'll come to learn that soon."

"That'd be great, thanks." she says with a softer expression, watching his face focused. He seemed like a decent man. He hadn't killed her in your sleep so that first test was passed. He had already made food twice, more than any other man had ever done. Now he was insisting he pay, even though in her generosity she'd forgotten to request it. He wanted to help with the house and take care of her and she feels warm fluttering in her stomach that she's growing to like. "I like to cook too so...that'll work out nice." she says with a small nod. 

She watches him in silence, her body waking up and starting to function at its normal capacity. A ray of sun appears across her from the patio doors, the sun rising and emerging out behind white fluffy clouds. She hums at the familiar warmth, shutting her eyes and drinking it in as she rises to look out the glass paned doors. The glass was already gaining warmth as she rested her hand on it. 

"Ya know that's a form of drawin' power you're doin' there?" he says with a soft smile, a spatula shifting eggs around in a pan. 

"It is?"

"It is." he says with a slow nod. "You draw energy from the sun. It's in the nature of your life force."

"So I really am just a slightly more evolved house plant." she chuckles to herself.

He mirrors the sound, "Now that's a gross understatement there, love." he grins. "I draw mine from the moon, best. I can draw it from the sun as well but it isn't nearly as effective."

"So I draw it from the moon too?"

"You certainly can. And because you're a woman you can draw from it much more effectively than I."

"What's that have to do with it?"

"Feminine energies are synced with lunar energy. The moon has a distinctly feminine influence."

"Like how things get weird around the full moon?"

"Exactly. It's all cycles in relation to nature though innit? With sexuality and menstrual cycles, the syncing of periods and the moon are common in witches."

"Wh-huh? Really?" she tilts her head, her face contorted in surprise and question. 

"So I've been told. Never had to worry about meself." he chuckles. 

"Guess you will now." she says with a swing of her head back to the window. 

"All part of it, love." he muses, starting to plate the food. "Never scared me to deal with before, doesn't now. Perfectly natural." Alfie had never been a normal man to be perturbed by any normal functions of the human body. Everyone was an animal, no reason to think certain things our bodies did were unseemly. Mae found his statement reassuring, thankful he wasn't a squeamish and hypocritical sort of person. But then again, how could he be squeamish with the things she'd seen him do in her dreams?

As her pupils focus in the sunlight, she takes in the garden, her eyes narrowing quickly. "Hmmm." Alfie hears her says, unlocking the door and walking out onto the patio. 

"Breakfast is almost done," he calls out, leaning to see her looking confused. He takes the buns out of the oven and sets them on the table, following her out with the oven mitts still on his hands. He walks out, head peeking out first to check the garden before standing in silence for a moment while Mae looked around with narrowed eyes. "Somethin' wrong?"

"These... blooms..." she motions her hand out to the popped bulbs of flowers along the fence, the sprouts coming out of the soil in their beds. "They weren't here yesterday." she says with a quiet voice, turning to look to him for an answer. 

"Ah.' He says with a nod, surveying the space along with her. "Must be your power," he says gently. "Me bein' here is most likely stirring things up. We're charging each other up it seems, making the other more powerful." She watches him look at the ground and his brow furrow. "Yeah that seems to be it." he says in a less enthusiastic voice. She looks down to see what made his tone switch, the paved back portion of the patio was covered in dead worms. It was as if a storm has come through and they'd fled, but they were lifeless on the still cold rock. 

"You do that?" she asks with worried eyes looking over where she stood.

"Seems mine are sneaking around a bit as well. Radiating out it seems." he sighs, seeing the subtly distraught look on her face. He didn't have a choice but to be associated with death as per his soul's origins but he didn't like the look he received when other magical humans saw what he could do. "Sorry 'bout this. I know they gotta help with the flowers 'n that." he takes off the oven mitts and rubs his forearm on his forehead. "I'll get you some more, how about that? I'll run by some bait shop somewhere and pick up some as to not upset the balance of your work here." he offers, hand now rubbing the back of his neck with an apologetic look on his face. 

"Yeah I need them for the beds and the compost." she mumbles. "That'll...yeah we can get more." she takes a few steps back towards the house. "This...happen often?" she asks, glancing to him before scraping off her shoes before coming back inside. 

"Not unless I mean it to. With our souls being so close in proximity their influence must've grown over the place. I'll do some spell work, make a circle to stop it from happenin'. I'd hate to interfere with your business in such a way. My apologies." he says, dipping his head and following her inside. 

"It's...it's fine. I mean, it can be fixed. Nothing too bad happened. Poor worms though."

He lets a smile read on his face at your sympathy towards the dirt dwellers. Of course, you would be empathetic to every creature, it was simply in your nature. "Hope that didn't ruin your appetite," he says, locking the door behind him. "I got buns as well." he says with more cheer in his voice. He brings the larger plate of hot food and smaller saucers for the gooey icing covered buns that were cooling on the table. 

"You made these?" she asks with a mouthful of bun that makes him hold back a smirk at her childish manners. 

"I did."

"They're like...really, really good." she says taking a sip of tea. 

"Thank you."

"You could sell these. These are amazing." she muses, taking another bite. 

"I did at one time." he replies with a higher inflection in his voice, a short nod.

"You did? Did they do well?"

"They did." he smiles, old memories of the small bakery that served as a physical and monetary front for his rum distillery business back when he was a human in Camden. 

"Let's take the rest of these to work. I'd like some for lunch." she says, pushing away her plate. "Do you uh...want to come to work with me? Or do you have stuff to do? I don't... know how this works." she says with a wrinkle of her nose.

"I can accompany you or I can stay here, unpack and mend the damage I've caused."

She considers her options. The extra set of hands would be very helpful for her while filing orders and continuing her inventory. "Is it okay if you come with me? I could use the help."

"Absolutely, love, I'd love to see your work."

"I mean...I can't afford to pay you or anything but-"

"No, no! Don't be ridiculous, I'll help ya out for nothin'." he gives her a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Really?" she says with a clearly grateful expression. "Thanks that would be...I could really use it." she admits, looking away and chewing on her lip.

"Spending time together, gettin' used to each other is good for us right now. Help get to know each other better, yeah?"

"Yeah. We went about things all ass backwards so I suppose we need to like...bond and stuff? That part of the soul mate thing?"

"Yes. We are separate from our souls by means of personality but they'll enjoy being together in close proximity while we figure out all the tedious human things about each other." he chuckles. 

"After tomorrow I have a day off so...we can talk about what we need to do then. But in the meantime, I've got some orders to fill and deliver today."

"We can take my car if that would help."

"Man, would it." she says with a thankful and exasperated face.   
\------------------------------

For the first time, she gets driven to work and takes in the scenery of the other side of the road that she's usually on. The ride is quiet, but she doesn't mind, she usually used this time to reflect anyway. 

"Ya do 'is?" he asks, standing in front of the car and pointing to the mural on the side of the building.

"Oh, no. I wish." she says with a soft huff of air, looking for her keys in her work bag. "Had a guy who needed some flowers, offered to paint it for a big discount and I took him up on it."

"It's quite good. Decent trade-off I'd say. Really adds somethin' to the place." he nods, keeping his eyes on it until they enter the store. 

"Thanks for locking up and everything yesterday." she says sheepishly, recalling passing out cold. 

"Oh, no worries, love. Wasn't about to leave your livlihood unattended in such a way." he waves his hand dismissively. 

"I need to count and refill the till...I'll be a little behind because of yesterday..." she says with no malice meant, just merely a statement of fact, laying her bag on the back countertop underneath the kelly green cupboards filled with supplies. 

"I am sorry 'bout how all that went down yesterday Mae..." he begins.

"Oh! I wasn't being passive aggressive about it!" she says with a nervous laugh. "I just...if you're gonna help you need to know what's goin' on, right?" she says with a shrug.

He smiles and is pleased to see she is all business while she's here. No wide-eyed aloofness as he'd seen back at the house. She was in her element, clearly. "Absolutely," he says with a wide closed mouth smile that raises his cheeks and makes his eyes crinkle at their edges. "Do go on, love." 

The smile catches her off guard, the softness of it. And for it to be directed at her. Had a man even ever looked at her so sweetly before? The calm body language, the soft even lilt of his voice, only sounding softer in comparison from his accent. All this was so new for her. She wasn't used to men being gentle and kind with her. On top of that, he kept giving her these weird pleasurable rumblings in her stomach and chest. She was feeling prickly, like an electrical current barely strong enough to notice was running through her now that she was surrounded by her plants and him. There were so many firsts coming at her at once but with him near she didn't feel as anxious about them as she would have without him. Which logically made no sense, he was a stranger and shouldn't have any kind of calming effect on her. But here she was, feeling happy and at ease around a man she didn't know. She knew there would be lots of firsts to come with his appearance in her life but she hoped that most of them would be as pleasant as this.   
\-----

He ran deliveries so she didn't have to leave the shop, he conditioned and cared for all the flowers, handled the new shipment and unboxed it, as she created and manned the phone and front. Having him there has been such a relief she hadn't expected. She found it easy to communicate with him, he understood her short and sometimes angry sounding orders with a nod and brisk movements. By the time the end of the day was rolling around, she was wondering how she'd done all this work alone for so long. 

Everything was going swimmingly, the end near for the completion of a hard but successful day. That is until two of three labeled "white girls" came into the shop.

"Hi, Mae." Tiffany says, her over teased bleach blonde hair sitting high and obnoxious in a hairspray stiff halo around her head. She had her Chanel bag on the counter, sifting through it 

Mae feels the hairs stand up on the back of her neck before she hears Alfie's boots on the tile floor coming up behind her. 

"And WHO is THIS?" Jessica says, chewing her gum and twisting her hair around her finger. She was probably the worst of the three, being recently divorced, a husband successful after the marriage and with no prenup she took him to the cleaners. But it seemed with the end of her marriage, came the end of her confidence and self-respect driven behavior. Her hair was teased high with a plethora of extensions attached just like Tiffany's. She'd bought boobs, a tummy tuck, a new nose and lips with some of the divorce money. And it wasn't all done subtly or particularly well. Not that Mae was against that in particular, she just didn't like the openly crude things she'd talk about loudly in public where everyone could hear. Or the way her nipples almost popped out of her shirts she wore them so low. Mae was starting to think that in itself was something she got off on. It just made Mae uncomfortable. But Mae wasn't exactly comfortable with expressing anything with her own sexuality, so it was a personal hang up. 

Alfie could literally smell the bullshit coming off these women when they walked into the store, fogging up the air with their self-entitled importance. He could hear their thoughts, the way they spoke of Mae's curly hair, the way they thought they were better than her. Alfie was in guard dog mode and it was as if he didn't even have a choice in the matter.

"This is Alfie. He's..." she blinks and stutters for a moment. "...my new employee." she finished with a nod of her head. 

Alfie's walks up with his back straight and wiping his hands on a rag, eyeing her with a low brow in a not friendly way. 

"So just a workin' relationship then?" she smirks, almost resembling a cartoon wolf with her tongue rolling out of her mouth and smoke coming from her ears. Except she has the end of her sunglasses in her mouth, her plumped up lips wrapping around the end while she eye fucked him from across the counter. 

With a glance to Alfie, Mae could tell he was not into it. 'What's a big hunk of man like that doin' with a little low-class girl like her?' she thought to herself and Alfie's nostrils flared and twitched. 'Not like she'd know what the hell to do with him.'

"Our friend Mae here was kind enough to give me a job seein' as I'm new in town, yeah? She's helpin' me get set up, innit ya love?" he asks, turning to face her, a gentle hand on her back, trying to get a clear read on how these girls made her feel, as she'd clearly dealt with them before. He felt the hesitation, the dislike, the forced courtesy as flashes of them insulting and taking advantage of her kindness flash across his vision. 

"Oh, WHERE is that accent from? I just LOOVE it." she coos, pushing her chest together and leaning on the counter as he quirks an eyebrow at her before rolling his eyes. 

"Where do ya fuckin' think? I'm bloody English! Ya daft?" he asks, leaning forward, brow low and lip almost snarled in a microaggression. "This one slow?" he asks Mae, a limp and unenthusiastic hand motioning towards Jessica. Mae's jaw goes tight and her eyes widen, lips tight she tries not the laugh or agree with him. But she certainly wasn't going to stop him. 

Jessica blinks in surprise, standing up straight, placing her hand on her hip for a boost of confidence. "I'm afraid I don't know much about accents over there." she tries to bat her eyelashes and play dumb, once again Alfie counters. 

"Doesn't surprise me you don't know ya basic geography." he says with a raised brow and a low tone that signified no hint of playful teasing. Mae tries not the smile, Tiffany looks at him with confusion. Jessica keeps chewing on the end of her glasses, Alfie now focusing his attention towards the other woman. "What ya want? Ya got an order to pick up or ya makin' one?" he asks with an indifferent tone. 

Tiffany nods, "I came to get the mum's for my daughters birthday." she begins. "She'll just be turnin' one and she's just the cutest little-"

"HERE YA GO!" he says in a deep grunting voice, interrupting her and setting the large crystal vase on the countertop. "Beautiful work as always, Mae." he says with a supportive nod. "That'll be $65 for the vase, mums, carnations, pink roses, asters, baby's breath and the greenery. RIght, love?" he turns in closer to Mae. 

"Oh, he's knows what he's talkin' about doesn't he?" Jessica coos again. 

"Just ya basic maths, yeah? Not that impressive to anyone with much sense." he adds curtly, nodding sharply and diverting his attention away again. 

Mae blushes and looks down to the register with a nod and a tightly pulled together smile. 

Tiffany nods, feeling the awkwardness between her friend and the new employee and pays Mae the flat price. 

"And here's a little extra for the...hard work." Jessica says sliding a twenty across the table at Alfie. 

He stares at the bill with the same grumpy look on his face, then moves his eyes only back up to her. "Mae's the one what done it. She's the artist who's work ya buyin'. Ya ain't buyin' me." he spits out, pushing the vase towards the other woman who is starting to frown despite the botox. "It's 'bout closin' time now. We got shit to do. Very busy. Get on with ya now." he orders, a sharp nod in their direction. 

Tiffany takes the vase into her arms and awkwardly shifts her eyes between the two people behind the counter before turning on her heel and walking out. Jessica lingers, biting the end of her glasses, another quickie of an eye fuck and she too turns, wisely keeping her mouth shut and leaves. 

"Yeah." Alfie gruffs out, finger pointing to them walking down the sidewalk. "That woman's a right cunt." he says locking the door behind him, heavy footsteps showing his annoyance as he flips the sign aggressively. 

"Alfie!" Mae almost squeaks in shock at the word. 

"Eh...it ain't as bad a work where I'm from." he gruffs out and moves back to the counter. "But I would call her 'at any where." he says with high brows. "Fuckin' awful that one." he says with a disgusted look on his face. "No self-respect a 'tall." he says in a high pitched voice. 

"How'd you know they-?" Mae begins to ask. 

"I could hear their nasty thoughts. No just 'bout me love, but you. Innit no one gonna even think 'bout you like that s'long as I'm 'round, yeah?" he places his hands on her shoulders, giving one a gentle pat. "Fuckin' awful humans." he grumbles, shaking his head and heading to the back of the store to finish labeling orders. 

Mae blushes again, she couldn't recall the last time she'd gotten so hot in the face. He was so... protective. So...nice. Well, nice to her anyway, and that was what really mattered. He was mean enough to prove a point but not mean enough to make them leave her business. Plus, she knew she had the best prices around and they would be back after not being able to bargain at a big box store. She stands and blinks slowly in thought, looking out the corner of her eye as he moves around the back rooms. The first man that wasn't a guardian to be so nice, kind and gentle, even though that wasn't common either. Now he was the first to defend her without her even asking him to. She couldn't really help but feel hopeful about this new relationship, and the magic hadn't even started yet.   
\------  
They come straight home after he hears Mae's stomach growling as they ride home. He declares he's going to make dinner and he'll deal with the worms and the power circles and everything else tomorrow. He didn't want to stress her out and he wanted to take care of her. He could defend her from racists and generally shitty people and he could feed her, so that was his plan as of right now. He'd felt the power she'd been moving around with all day, she must've been tired a lot before, he thinks. She outputs power around the plants without realizing, constantly thinking about them, worrying about them and tending to them. It was all leaking out of her and he figured he'd first need to help her identify when she was using powers, as she did nearly constantly and that wasn't something she could keep up forever. She needed to turn it off and take care of herself sometimes. 

He pulls into the barely there driveway, or just barely big enough for his oversized car. He still loved it though. 

A pair of neighbors are waiting on their porch as they pull in, immediately trotting across the street as fast as their elderly legs can take them, holding a plate of peanut butter rolls. Which happened to be one of Mae's favorites. 

Alfie's ears prick up, turning to see the two elderly ladies crossing the street towards them.

"Friends of yours?" he asks quietly as Mae walks around the car to stand beside him.

"Best friends." she says softly with a smile. 

As they approach Alfie can feel the good vibes and love they come with and his mind eases. 

"Tall one is Nancy, short one is Ruth." she says with a big smile, taking a few steps towards them.

"Hello pumpkin'!" they both coo out, coming in to hug her from both sides. 

"Your hair is gettin' so looong." Ruth says, patting her cheek. 

"We brought you your favorite as an excuse to see who this handsome man is we saw coming out of your house this morning." Nancy grins, raising her head with its short grey hairstyle. Nancy was always the straight shooter. 

"And I should ask who are these lovely ladies I've never seen before?" he grins extending his hand to Ruth first.

"Oh my goodness!" she blushes and giggles. "What a sweet boy!" she praises with a smile so big her eyes shut and taking his hand that she covers with both of his. 

"Miss...?" he asks.

"Ruth dear!" she says cheerfully.

"And you miss?" he asks reaching out for Nancy's hand who takes it but is as always, far cooler and collected about it. 

"Nancy. Call me Nance." she says with a single nod. 

"Ruth and Nance. I am Alfie Solomons. 'Ello. " he says with a booming and attention demanding voice that was clearly charming the pants right off Ruth and was even earning an eyebrow wiggle Mae's way from Nance. 

"Far from home ain't ya?" Nance says in a friendly tone.

"Yes, ma'am I am from Camden, London." he says politely with a nod. "I am new in town and your darling Mae here was kind enough to let me rent out her guest room to stay in." Before any other questions can come out of their mouths, and there was an impressive amount bumping around in their heads, "We have a mutual friend who vouched for me ahead of time."

"Ahh." they both say, looking over and nodding in unison.

"He's helping me out at the shop too." Mae adds in, holding the plate of rolls. 

"Oh! A handy one." Nance says, sizing him up. "That will certainly be useful." she muses. 

"I plan to, ma'am." he grins that charming smile and they're sold. 

"He's been pretty useful so far." Mae chimes in.

"I made your favorite dear!" Ruth chirps.

"I already told her, hun." Nance corrects her.

"Oh yes. The humidity was perfect for them, couldn't pass up the chance." she says patting the saran wrapped sweets. 

"Also had to check in on our girl Mae. We watch her like hawk, mind you Alfie."

"Watch away!" he chuckles. "I won't be any trouble, I promise." he says with a single nod. 

"How long are you stayin'?" Nance begins her questions.

"As long as Mae will have me I suppose. I'm here for the long haul, work visa and all. Needed a change of scenery from where I was so I came to the states. Did some travelin' for a bit, met Mae's friend on an online discussion board about flowers. Ya see me mum worked with flowers, so I'm familiar. And when I decided to head down south I was directed to our lovely little Mae here who has been a most gracious host I must say."

"She is a sweetheart." Ruth smiles. "She can cook! Have you cooked for him yet, baby girl, you really should!" she says enthusiastically, leaning in and lowering her voice to a loud whisper, putting her hand to her mouth to hide it "Way to a man's heart is through his stomach ya know." she nods like it was the first time Mae would've ever heard the saying. 

"I was planning on cooking with him tonight actually, that's what we were on our way to do. But I won't have to worry about dessert now will I?" she smiles happily. 

"We won't keep you kids then." Nance says, tugging the back of Ruth's cotton dress. 

"I'll bring back the plate soon." Mae adds in, taking a few steps back, Alfie following her lead. 

"You be good! We'll come over sometime and we'll all have to catch up. I wanna know more about you Mr. Alfie! You better take good care of our little sweet potato pie there!" Ruth says as Nance continues to tug her back, now by her arm.

"Lord mercy Ruth, act like you ain't desperate." she laughs, turning the other woman around.

"Well I'm closing in on 70 and I want her married. Don't do bringin' the Lord into this!" she says with a raised finger.

"Oh, hush. You'll be prayin' about it later, don't you act like you won't."

"Of course I will! Did you see him? My word." she says with a little noise of enthusiasm afterward.

Alfie and Mae stand with tight lips, trying not to laugh as they wait for them to cross the street before heading into the house.

"What a couple of characters." he laughs, taking his shoes off. 

"They mean well. They're darlings. And damn fine poker players. They'll win the shirt off your back." she giggles.

"How do you know them?"

"They were friends with Bessie and Charles that owned this place. So they've known me since I was a teenager."

"Some time then yeah?"

"Oh yeah. I got the house a little over a year ago and I hang out with them sometimes. They're nice and funny. Well-intentioned." she says with a shrug, setting the plate on the table.

"And these are?"

"Peanut butter rolls. They're hard to make so they make 'em for me since I failed the first time." she laughs. "Try one. It's powdered sugar and peanut butter basically."

He takes one and tears away a piece."Oh bloody hell that's sweet."

"Very."

"You southerners love your sweets dunnit ya?"

"Oh yeah." she says with a big grin and a nod.

"Ya gonna need those calories to keep up with the work you're gonna be doin'." he says with a huff of a laugh.

"Good. Because I love these." she says popping the other half of the piece he ate into her mouth. 

"What ya wanna do for dinner dear?" he asks, rubbing his hands together. "Shall I make something from home? From my travels? You wanna teach me somethin' 'bout your soul food?" he asks with a shake of his head. 

"Yeah. Let's make some comfort food. I'm starvin'. We worked hard today. We earned it."

"What ya wanna make."

"Let's keep it simple. Some shrimp and cheese grits." she says, moving to the fridge.

"Whatever you say sweet potato pie." he laughs.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfie and Mae spend the day apart and Mae suffers for it. After a bad day at her shop, she comes home to a house that isn't empty and cold for the first time. Alfie's kindness hits her hard and he learns about the dark days that formed her.

Mae wakes up for the second morning in a row well rested. She'd gone to bed with a full stomach, having eaten their weight in seafood and grits the night before. She felt more at ease today with the fact that there was a man living with her now. He'd stood up for her, helped her cook and put Ruth and Nance's minds at ease for. She felt a warm feeling when she thought of him. It could be the magic, she thought. 

Her inner light was growing stronger, it was being fed with another power like it's own, the darkness stirring up her previously unstable energies, making it build and heal itself from all the years alone and unsure. Alfie gave her a strange sense of fullness, stability of sorts she hadn't expected. Normally having another person in her life would make her feel anxious, second-guessing everything she did at the expense of her own peace of mind to keep the other person comfortable. But that wasn't happening with him. 

She throws on her robe, scratching her head and yawning big, the smell of coffee hitting her nose as soon as her slippers start bopping across the old hardwood floor towards the kitchen. Alfie stood leaned against the counter in pajama pants and a soft, sleep rumpled t-shirt. His hair was a mess, one side flat and the other sticking up, his eyes lazy with smacking lips as he scratched his stomach waiting on the coffee pot to deliver. 

"Mornin' love." he says with a slow nod, his voice deep and sleepy. 

"Mornin'." she grumbles, taking a seat at the table in a sunbeam. Percy lets out a little 'mrrrrowl' of greeting, bumping his head to hers as she runs her fingers along his spine. "Hey Perce." she mutters, his tail swishing in her face and making her nose twitch. She's slowly waking up, Percy laid out in front of her on his back, trying to be cute and keep her attention. 

"Hazlenut or French Vanilla?" Alfie asks, standing with the fridge door open, staring into the dull glow. 

"Thought you could read my mind." she smirks, her head slowly turning to him.

"I can but you don't know which ya want." he retorts with a snarky smile. 

"Hazlenut." she answers with a nod, watching him bring the two mugs over to the table as he plops down next to her, landing in the chair with a loud scoot of its legs across the floor.

So what's on the 'ol agenda today?" he asks, sitting up straight and cracking his spine. 

"Uh... not much. We got ahead yesterday." she nods and closes her eyes, taking a sip of the hot liquid and letting it warm her from the inside out. "Thanks for that by the way." she says, eyes blinking open now, looking more alert. 

"Don't mention it. I'm here to help." he nods and watches her over the steam rising from his mug. 

"If you need to like, do stuff here today you can." she offers. "Just basic stuff for me today to do at the shop. No orders or anything. All caught up for the week." she states with a lazy smile of thanks. "If you wanna unpack and get used to the place... bond with Percy." she nods over the lazy white cat soaking up a sunbeam. 

"I do have stuff I can do today with ya out. Get me things all situated. What do ya say Percy?" he asks the cat with a smirk on his face. 

Percy raises his head and looks at him, blinking slowly. A weak meow escapes him before he lays back down totally uninterested.

"He doesn't care." Alfie chuckles. 

"Alright." she nods, taking a bigger sip. "I'm gonna take this." she holds the mug in both hands and stands. "Gonna get a shower and get ready and be on my way. Make whatever you want, Friday's are my day I get a smoothie on the way to work." she says and he feels her excitement about the future purchase. 

"Will do. I'll keep it simple. Lots of liftin' 'n that to do today." he groans and stretches, as she waddles back into her bedroom.   
\----  
The calm she'd felt at home felt farther and farther away the further she got from home. The usual heaviness, that quivering ball of nerves that told her something was wrong, that she was wrong started to grow back into its usual place in her stomach. Mae sips her berry smoothie and leans over the front counter, her jeans feeling a little tight today, her toes curling and uncurling in the ballet flats that matched her green t-shirt that she'd had made for her company. Her loose spiral curls dancing around her shoulders, the various shades of almost black brown catching the light that came through the high windows of the crowded and humid building. This would be the only moment of peace that she got for the day, as the downpour of things that made her want to crawl up and disappear seemed to hit all at once, leaving her dazed and confused. 

First, Jessica shows up. She struts in the door tits first with her large Starbucks cup in tow, overlined lips sucking away at the straw. She doesn't even look at Mae until she's right in front of the counter.

"What do ya need today Jessica?" Mae asks with a perfectly polite attitude, setting her drink down to the side. 

"Where's that big leprechaun you've got in here now?" she asks with a smirk as she looks into the back of the shop.

"Leprechaun?" Mae's nose wrinkles up in question.

"What was his name. The big guy with the accent in here yesterday." she replies obviously, jutting a hip out in her annoyance.

"Oh. Alfie." Mae answers flatly. 

"Yeah that big boy." she grins. 

"He's not working today." she answers, trying to remain indifferent.

"Oh." she slumps and pushes her lips together into a tight line. 

"He's also not a leprechaun." she clarifies. "He's English. Not Irish. And don't call Irish people leprechauns, that's just... some weird kind've racist."

"They're white and ginger, who cares?" she says without a thought and rolls her eyes. "Not like I'm calling you the n-word or something." she retorts like it means anything and Mae takes a deep breath.

"I'm not black, I'm Hispanic." she clarifies with a more forceful voice.

"Well, it's not like I'm calling you a... what's a racist word for a Mexican?"

"I'm Spanish not..."

"Tacos? Burritos? IS that something? Beans! Wait, no... Mexican jumping beans, yeah. Wait... that's not it."

"I know what you're thinking and there's no reason to say it. What do you want?" she answers more curtly. 

"To see Alfie. He won't be in today?"

"No." another flat response.

"What's he doing today? Where's he at? What's his deal?" her inquisition begins, waving her cup in the air as she speaks. 

Mae sighs and goes back to her smoothie. "He's at home. I don't know what he's doing. That's his business and you should respect his space. He was clearly not interested when you talked to him yesterday."

"He's just playing hard to get. You know guys, they act like assholes and you just have to get them to like you by doing stuff for them and letting them make fun of you sometimes. It's all part of it. Not like you would know. Not like anyone's trying to get with you." she snaps back.

"No, but that's..." Mae lets out a heavy sigh. "Whatever." she gives up and takes a noisy sip of her drink. 

"So he lives with you?" Jessica says with a tilt of her head. "You said at home. If not where does he live, you probably have that on file for his employee records or something, right?" she asks , leaning over the counter.

"He does live with me." she decides to not address the clear violation giving an employees persona information would be as she figures it's pointless. 

"Wait... so are you guys like a thing?" she says with a clearly disgusted look on her face.

"No. He's a friend of a friend, he's new in town and needed a place to stay and I had a spare room."

"I have a whole guest house if he wants to stay with me. Got a pool and a hot tub." she grins. "So let him know I've got a real house for him to stay at if he wants."

"Are you saying my house is abstract?" Mae chuckles to herself.

"What?" she says with a twist of her neck.

"Nothin'." Mae rolls her eyes. "If you don't need anything I've got stuff to do... so..." she says, looking over at the tall blonde under her lashes.

"You were just standing here so SORRY... thought you had free time." she retorts.

"I just opened. I have to let the systems boot up." she explains with a deadpan delivery. 

"Is he workin' tomorrow?" she asks, one hand on the counter.

"No, we're closed tomorrow."

"Then Monday then?" 

"Maybe." Mae shrugs.

"He's your employee, why don't you know?" she bites back.

"Because he's new here and he might need off to run errands to get everything settled." she says offers up. "Not that it's any of your business." she mutters.

"You just let your employee take off like that? Not knowing if he'll work and he can just drive around town all day?" she asks seriously.

Mae sighs again and takes another drink, not answering as a pain grew between her eyes.

"I wanna work for you then, dang." she laughs, her mood shifting fast. "Oh my God, ARE you hiring? I'd be willing to get my hands dirty for that little... whatever he is."

"He's English." Mae rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Little... what do English people do? Drink?" she asks seriously.

"Jessica I'm not hiring and just... please go, I have things to do." Maw says with a clear tone of exasperation.

"Fine. But I'll be back on Monday to see Alfie." she sass's taking a long drink from her straw as she walks backward, keeping an eye on Mae who watches her bump into a shelf as she tries to look cool making her exit. 

"Bye Jessica." Mae says shaking her head.

"Tell Alfie I said Hiiiiii." she says before leaving. 

"What an idiot." Mae says rubbing her forehead. 

With a thoroughly racist and rude conversation to start the day, the day only picks up speed from there. A phone call comes in, an irate customer claiming she'd sabotaged her party. An order that was entered incorrectly by the customer, a miscommunication of what sort of flowers they wanted in their arrangements. Mae didn't know how this woman had written down Black-eyed Susan's instead of sunflowers on her order sheet, or picking a Transvaal daisy over a shasta daisy, but she was certain this woman was overreacting at how the arrangements ruined her church's barbeque. Mae had pictures of flowers next to the names of them in her big folder that sat on the top of the shop counter specifically for this reason. She gave the book to customers coming in to make orders and it wasn't her fault she filled out the order how it was written and what the woman wrote wasn't right. She couldn't read her mind. But still, she was blamed, getting dog cussed for all she was worth, the woman even bringing the Lord into it and telling her she'd had to refund her in full. Which was in no way happening. After you sign off on the delivery sheet, everything is final. No refunds. There was a chance to say they were wrong before she signed, that's why Mae set it up that way. But the woman wouldn't listen and Mae ends up just saying 'I'm Sorry.' to everything she says, taking the abuse.

The woman gives up eventually after a few people are waiting for her attention for the lunch rush. She works as fast as she can, but the line grows as a little old lady requires her undivided attention, asking about every flower, telling her stories about the flowers her husband used to bring her when he was alive. On a slow day Mae would've indulged her fully but with customers waiting behind her the stress was sky high. 

She apologizes and leaves the lady to talk to herself, ringing out people as fast as she can while they give her dirty looks. She had great pride in being a good business owner and people thinking she was bad at her job made her a mess. A child that was with a negligent parent that had been waiting, knocks over a shelf of succulents, her biggest sellers, destroying the handmade pots she'd made for them. In all, the day was a total shit show.

She shuts the shop up and cries as she finally gets around to cleaning up the broken pieces of pottery, nestling her little friends into one big pot for the weekend to deal with on Monday. She apologizes to them and she feels they understand, her tears falling into the new soil as she sniffles and packs them in. She hesitantly throws away the shattered pieces of pottery, thinking off all the time she spent painting and glazing each, how much time and money lost on them. How she'd have to ask for half the price until she could make more holders for the plants. A personal and a professional loss all in one. 

She doesn't even skate home as she usually would. She throws her skates in her oversized work bag and walks, her feet feeling as heavy as her heart. Everything about the day had drained her. Her body was tired, her chest hurt from a racing heart all day from embarrassment and anxiety. Her pride took a hit from the disappointed looks from the customers. She takes a heavy breath, hand on the doorknob, hoping that Alfie wasn't about to add to the bad day she'd had. 

As soon as she opens the door, the feeling she'd left the house with hits her again. She wipes her tear stained cheeks, setting her bag down by the end of the couch, seeing everything clean and tidy with candles lit and the smell of food coming from the kitchen. The house smelled amazing, it somehow felt amazing, like getting into a hot bath after the end of a long day. The build of depression holds strong as she sees everything he's done for her while she'd been out. 

"Hello Mae!" he calls out cheerfully. "Ya need help with anyfing?" he says, moving pots around the stove top. "Give me just a second love and I'll be right in to help ya." he calls out over his shoulder. 

She comes around the corner, her face was sunken and clearly upset, taking in the sight before her. A kitchen filled with a home cooked meal for them both. She sees bread in the oven, lasagna sitting on the table as he switches off burners and pushes the rest of a chopped head of lettuce into a large salad bowl. A tin of muffin batter sits on a tea towel at the end of the counter. She gets a swirling feeling in her stomach. It builds quickly and she starts to sob, putting her head in her hands. 

He turns, wiping his hands on a towel as his eyes grow large at the sight before him. Her glow was dull, her curls falling into her face as her hands with their yellow chipped polish covered her crying face. 

"No, no love now that won't do." he says, moving quickly over towards her. He takes her into his arms without a moments hesitation. "Come here, little Mae." he coos out, holding her to him. As much as he may have wanted, he didn't have much healing magic to pass around, he wasn't really a healer so much as a destroyer of things. "Shhh, there, there, love." he pats his hand on her thick hair, the smell of her shampoo rising up as he leans his face in close. She feels the warmth around her, the soft-spoken kind words from this man who had swept in and taken care of her without expecting anything in return. She felt her chest thump, her stomach building again and more sobs are pushed out as she lets herself wrap her hands into his t-shirt and press her forehead against his chest. 

He wears a deep-set frown, not knowing what was wrong, her thoughts a roller coasting of emotions, totally unstable and making his dizzy when he tried to read them. Her magic and mind were working hard and fast and he knew something must've set off the sensitive little thing she was. "Now lovely, we can talk 'bout what's got ya upset, or we don't have to say nuffin'." he gives a nod, putting his hands to her shoulders to pull her away, taking a handkerchief that was older than her out of his pocket and giving it to her. 

She wipes her eyes and blows her nose with a little toot of a sound that makes him smile as she sniffles, nose twitching like a little rabbit. "I just wanna eat and sleep." she answers, staring into his chest, not looking up at him. Her voice was small but she felt smaller. She fought the urge to tell him she didn't deserve all this special treatment, she didn't understand why someone would be doing all these nice things for her. No one else ever had. Her last caregivers, the ones who left her the house had been good people, but they never coddled her. They never cleaned for her, held her while she cried, stood up for her when others would try to bring her down. They'd always left her to her own devices. She'd never had anyone to treat her like something worth going the extra mile for. It was all a bit too much on her weak shoulders after the day she'd had. 

"Well lemme finish up dinner and you go get comfy and cozy on the couch and I'll come get ya and we'll take care of that 'eatin' bit, eh?" he suggests, rubbing her upper arms as he spoke to her with a voice that she could feel warming her from the inside out. Her light tried to fight past the years of neglect to make her bloom and be able to draw from that endless well of love she had so she could give it to her herself and not just those around her. But she was still weak, and there was time to grow. So it settles, feeling it's mate so close and humming in wait with a baseline of contentment. 

She takes one of the fuzzy throws on the couch and wraps it around her, grabbing one of her decorative pillows and wrapping her arms around it to try to get comfy for a moment. She falls asleep while the bread is baking, her body giving over to a much-needed recharge after the stress that the day put her through. 

Alfie pulls the muffins out and lets them cool, wiping his hands and giving a nod to the first big meal he'd cooked in decades. Being alone there wasn't much of a reason to cook big and when the last group of people he ran with being musicians in the 90's, he'd never had a reason to cook for a group of people. But now he had plenty of reasons to dust off the old domestic skills that his mother and sisters had helped him learn. The baking was more familiar, as per his old cover for his criminal days, but the meals were what took the most focus. With Mae's plethora of fresh herbs to use, and come harvest time a garden full of fresh produce, he was sure cooking would be something he used to help both of them learn some new skills. 

He ponders what he should cover with her the next day as he watches her sleep on the arm on the couch. A headful of curls on top of a fuzzy blanket, her lips smushed out against the pillow she clutched in her arms. 

"Mae." he says gently, leaning in close, a hand to her arm to rub her awake. She grunts and puffs out air between her pink and pouted lips but doesn't wake. The softness of her makes him smile, he enjoys it a moment without having to worry about making her uncomfortable. The long dark lashes spread out over freckled cheeks, her full brows set in a scowl. All curled up under the blanket she looked so small, and he supposes compared to him she is. Standing just a bit over five feet tall he supposes, her shorter frame gives her a stocky and soft appearance. With round hips that only slightly narrowed into thick thighs, he sees her small feet sticking out from the covers. Yellow nail polish to match that on her fingers on her toes. It wasn't only her body, her hair or her sweet face with it's round, button nose that was soft but her heart was as well. He could feel her power humming quietly, even it was still timid. His darkness wants it to burst, to flow out of her as it can do within him. It wants to soak up that innocence, that sweet softness that she's made of. His closes his eyes, his darkness rumbling, soaking up her delicate heat into its cold center, Alfie feels his limbs tingle, a prickling warmness that only she could give to him. 

He exhales slowly, a hand soft to her hair, pushing it back. "Mae." he says, moving to give her nose a gentle tap.

"Mmph." she grunts, nose twitching as he eyes flutter open and meet his before she sits up to straighten her back, rubbing her eyes. 

"Dinner's ready, love." he says, standing back up straight. 

"'Kay." she mumbles, sitting in a daze as she wakes. 

He beams at her, a smile she doesn't see. "Come on to the table when ya ready." he suggests, moving to go set their places. 

She plops into a chair, the sleep slowly leaving her body as she watches him move around the kitchen, a towel over his shoulder as he cuts and plates her food. 

"Now 'is I learned from an Italian, yeah? Found a wonderful little market when I when shoppin' today 'n got fresh cheese." he says proudly. "I went 'n did some of your shoppin' as well while I's out. Got more cleanin' supplies since I used most of 'em today. Got the bathroom and the kitchen. Dusted and vacuumed." he nods casually while trying to recall everything he did, wanting to let her know what he'd been up to, letting her know he was useful to her. "Already watered and fed all the babies." he chuckles. "Although I think a few in the greenhouse could use a personal touch. Wasn't about to try it meself. I'd just mess up all your hard work. So I figured we could start wif those tomorrow hmmm? Start simple with somefin ya like." He moves his eyes to hers and finds a puzzling look on her face. Her eyes give true meaning to the term puppy dog eyes. Her mouth is slack, partially open and her big hazel eyes are glimmering at him. Not tears yet, but the look in her eyes says lots of things. He feels that loneliness that resides in her throbbing stronger. He decides to switch the conversation. "I made the bread, eh? That flour you use is top notch, love." he tries giving her compliments but it doesn't seem to help. "Used some cherry tomatoes out of the greenhouse for the salad, hope ya don't mind. The muffins are ready as well, made 'em with blueberries I found at the grocery. Hope ya like those." he continues plating her food. He doesn't look at her face, not wanting to seem nosey as she was clearly going through something. But he sees big fat tears fall onto the table top and he can't stop himself. As soon as he makes eye contact, he sees her face much like a baby's, a trembling bottom lip, wet rosy cheeks rounded before her face contorted and she hid it in her hands. "Oh come now, little one." he says dropping the utensils and kneeling next to her. "What is it love?" he rubs her back gently in a circle, his palm tingled as he felt the chaos inside her. Mending her was going to be a very messy job. 

"Why are you so nice to me?" she chokes out between sobs.

His chest aches, his face falling out of it's friendly and polite expression he'd held in place for her sake. "Oh Mae," he whispers, pulling her to his chest. "There, there." he shushes her. "Why would I not be nice to you? You've been nothing but nice to me." he explains. "You're my mate. Your well bein' is me own, I would only be hurtin' myself to not try to take care of you." He invades her privacy, shutting his eyes and trying to see what was causing all the trouble. 

He feels the day she'd had. He sees a lifetime of abandonment and neglect. All the bullies growing up, all the hardships she was given to overcome from a young age. An absent father, a childhood spent in the system and an adult life of loneliness and rejection. Putting herself out there time and time again to be met by men who didn't care or understand. He didn't see the loneliness, he felt it. He felt her bed only ever being empty and cold, he feels her heart struggling to maintain it's one-sided giving when no one would replenish it. Her power touches him as he's washed in all this hurt she knows. The light shines within her. With his eyes shut he can see it, glowing like the sun on an overcast day, trying to break through the barrier of gloom that spread across it. He can feel it's tired, that it's just as lost as her. But he most importantly feels that it knows he's there, whether Mae knows or understands it herself. Her power knew better things were ahead for them and Alfie felt more certain he would protect and help this beautiful soul as long as he could. 

"I just... No one's ever... I'm not used to it. It feels..."

"Like you don't deserve it." he finishes her thought, hearing it ring true in his own head for so long. 

"Yeah," she says with a whimper, looking back up at him. "How did you?" she trails off, wiping her nose.

"Because I know it too." he nods, using his handkerchief to wipe at her face. "But it's not true. Don't listen to that voice. It's a liar." he says sternly. "You deserve the world, Mae. You are bright and full of love and good and the world needs that so very desperately. You deserve every bit of kindness that comes your way. Don't you dare think differently."

Her doe eyes blink up at him, never having heard something like that said to her before in all her almost thirty years. "I..." she begins, not knowing where to finish her thought.

"You just sit and think about that, yeah?" he gives her a nod. "Let's eat on the couch." he suggests. "We'll stop this cryin'. We'll go get cozy and we'll eat until we can't breathe and that'll make ya feel better. Watch somethin' ya like?"

She nods and swallows noisily. 

"Good girl." he gives her back a pat before pulling away. "Now go get ya blankets and I'll grab the plates." he says with a self-assured tone. 

She lowers her head, eyes on the ground as she gets them each a blanket. He gets everything else in order and they flip through Netflix together, large plates of food sitting on pillows in their laps. 

"What do ya like, eh? Nature documentaries I bet." he suggests and she gives a small but enthusiastic nod as she sticks her fork into her lasagna. 

They sit together, side by side, eating the towering plates of homemade food. Alfie talks over the narrators, sharing things he knew, but mostly making up his own narration in an attempt to make her smile. "Now 'is one ain't lookin' for a mate, he's lookin' for trouble. He thinks 'is one's been talkin' shit, yeah. By the looks of 'em I'd say he's right. Look at those little shifty beady eyes, ya can't get that look past me." he wags his finger at the TV and looks down to see her smiling after a tiny huff of a laugh escapes her. "There she is." he says proudly, giving her a nudge with his elbow. She looks up at him bashfully for a shared glance, before turning her face back to the tv with a tiny smile that told him she'd be just fine.


End file.
